


My History Will Be The Death of Me

by machiavellian_mask



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Briarwood Arc (Critical Role), M/M, Spanking, The Trouser-legs of Time, the start of a relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-22
Updated: 2020-09-22
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:27:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26593690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/machiavellian_mask/pseuds/machiavellian_mask
Summary: "I screwed the pooch, Percy, and I might have done worse if it wasn't for the Seeker, or for you five, or for Lillith.  You can't... you can't *thank* me for that."Percy's expression had shifted through a multitude of emotions as Vax babbled, beginning with a tolerant amusement, flickering through mild vexation, to understanding, then to something multi-layered that Vax'ildan couldn't name.  Curiosity was a part of it, and so was resignation.  "I can't, can I?" he said, almost too quietly to be heard.  He sat back down behind the desk, pushing his chair back.  "Come here, please."Vax's heart jumped.  He felt a shiver of adrenaline ripple through his body, leaving him both uncertain and deeply eager, even though he wasn't sure what was going to happen next.  He knew what he *hoped* that cool, dark tone meant, coupled with Percy's body language, but he didn't know Percy well enough - didn't know if Percy knew *him* well enough, to cross that line.Nonetheless, he hesitated only briefly before he crossed to stand before Percy, just barely close enough to touch.
Relationships: Percival "Percy" Fredrickstein Von Musel Klossowski de Rolo III/Vax'ildan
Comments: 8
Kudos: 27





	My History Will Be The Death of Me

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to what will probably be a long and winding road through an Alternate Universe version of the tale of Vox Machina - what if Vax (instead of Vex) had fallen in love with Percy? 
> 
> The story begins just after the disaster at the Feast, when Vax, still wracked by guilt over what almost happened, comes to ask Percy for something more than a blanket forgiveness. It will build from there and come to include the rest of Vox Machina, though it will stay Perc'ildan centred throughout. Tags will be updated as things are added to the story, not before, but if I didn't tag anything you think important, let me know. 
> 
> The first chapter could basically be considered a stand-alone, and it's a spanking fic. If you're not into spanking, probably best not to read further, though I hope you do. <3

The forge was still warm, though the embers had long since paled from the ruddy tangerine that marked truly hot coals to a dull red edged in still smoking grey. Half-finished pieces of metal and wire lay discarded alongside various hammers, tongs and other tools that Vax could guess the uses of, though not the names. Everything smelled as if it were in media res, from the sharpness of the smoke and the harshness of the tempering chemicals to fresh ink and melted wax on the small desk in the corner. 

The desk at which Percival currently sat, head pillowed in his gloved hand, other hand still clutching a quill, as he stared into a distance only he could see, half-asleep and half drawn up in a hell Vax'ildan was just beginning to imagine. 

He did not know how long he had stood there in the doorway, fingers curled around the knob, considering whether to enter or to leave, whether to break the silence or let it continue to curl around Percy like an old friend. Every time he would almost make up his mind, one way or the other, a new detail would catch and haunt him - the way a strand of sweat-dampened curl grazed Percy's forehead, the way the flickering candle-light shadowed and darkened eyes Vax knew were really some oceanic blue-grey and made them look eerily akin to gunmetal. 

He was not even sure what gave the game away, only that it happened before he was quite ready and before he'd determined what he was going to say, if indeed he had made up his mind to say anything. 

Percy shook/jumped, as if rudely awakened, shot to his feet and focused on the shadows in the doorway. 

"Who's... oh, Vax." Imperceptibly, he relaxed, though the tension still clung to him, as if it were the only thing currently holding him upright. Perhaps, given how little Percival had been sleeping since they had heard the Briarwoods were guests of the Monarch, it truly was. "What are you doing there?"

"I... I uh, wanted to apologize," Vax found his mouth was dry and swallowed hard, trying to bite back the feeling that he shouldn't be here, that Percival didn't want *him* here trying to offer ... what... comfort? advice? If he wanted comfort he would have gone to Keyleth, or Pike. If he wanted advice, he would have gone to Vex'ahlia... Vax was just the fuck-up brother, out of his depth with anything heavier than a joke, hurling his heart at shadows that would have preferred stillness. 

"You did that already, the night of the feast," said Percy, his brows knitting together, proving Vax's point with his inflexible coolness. "And I hold by what I said then- would you come in, please, I can't see your face there and it's..." his lips curled, "irritating."

"I -" Vax obeyed, shuffling further into the room and closing the door quietly behind him. He came to stand awkwardly in front of Percy's desk, feeling uncomfortably as if he were being called to task by his father, all those years ago, before he'd stopped caring (or started pretending not to care, let's be honest in the privacy of our own minds, Vax'ildan) what the old man thought. "I know what you *said,* Percival, but I also know what I did and how I feel about it. I got caught up in listening to the Briarwoods at dinner, in cataloguing all their reactions, all their lies, and the way Uriel... and the way you... responded. I completely forgot about Asum until it was too late and then I tried to make the timing work when it couldn't. The best case scenario I set up for myself was that I died, the worst... I could have been made to turn against you all, to spy upon you, perhaps even to assassinate you - who knows what they can do, given how deep a hold they have on Uriel? I screwed the pooch, Percy, and I might have done worse if it wasn't for the Seeker, or for you five, or for Lillith. You can't... you can't *thank* me for that."

Percy's expression had shifted through a multitude of emotions as Vax babbled, beginning with a tolerant amusement, flickering through mild vexation, to understanding, then to something multi-layered that Vax'ildan couldn't name. Curiosity was a part of it, and so was resignation. "I can't, can I?" he said, almost too quietly to be heard. He sat back down behind the desk, pushing his chair back. "Come here, please."

Vax's heart jumped. He felt a shiver of adrenaline ripple through his body, leaving him both uncertain and deeply eager, even though he wasn't sure what was going to happen next. He knew what he *hoped* that cool, dark tone meant, coupled with Percy's body language, but he didn't know Percy well enough - didn't know if Percy knew *him* well enough, to cross that line. 

Nonetheless, he hesitated only briefly before he crossed to stand before Percy, just barely close enough to touch. He was looking down, but his pounding heart insisted that Percy had all the power now. 

"You are going to be punished," Percy said gently, and Vax inwardly both thrilled and cursed that he had been right. He didn't precisely *want* this, but he needed it, for himself, so he could forgive himself, and for Percy, so that he could believe Percy did as well. And, he hoped, for Percy, so that Percy could believe he wouldn't do such a stupid, thoughtless thing again. But Percy was still speaking. "Not because I am angry with you. I am *very* angry, Vax, I imagine you can sense that, whether you know it or not, but none of that is because of you. None of my anger is your fault. Do you understand?"

"Yes," Vax lied. He didn't understand. If he were Percy, he'd be livid with himself right then, possibly too angry even to speak without violence, and yet here Percy was, being... soft and understanding. Vax both didn't want it and craved it, the same way he did the punishment that was being promised/threatened.

"You should call me my lord when you are being reprimanded," the gunslinger said calmly, and *that*... wow... that did *something* to Vax. The matter-of-fact tone, the stern eyes, the implication that this was not a one-off, that this was something Percy would do for Vax again if necessary (did he want it to be necessary? Surely he didn't, he wasn't that kind of a masochist, never had been, anyway), the overblown title that would usually have Vax snorting and deflecting with some crass comment. 

Now all he did was quietly amend his lie, "Yes, *my lord*."

"Better, though we'll talk about honesty as well as communication and self-preservation once you're over my knee. Speaking of which..." Percy patted his right thigh, apparently immune to Vax's sudden blush and stammering. "Remove your belts and weapons and loosen your trouser lacings before you position yourself. You may leave your clothing on for the time being, but there will come a time I'll need to see your bare arse to make certain I'm not damaging you. Now, please."

*Now* Vax hesitated, prompting those final two words from de Rolo. The workshop was suddenly uncomfortably hot and the collar of his leather armor felt as if it was crawling up to his Adam's apple. Surely Perce could hear his heart pounding. "Are you sure you wouldn't rather just punch me in the face a couple of times?" he tried light-heartedly, feigning a casual joking that had escaped him when the light in Percy's eyes had changed. 

"I think not. I agree with your assessment of your own actions. You were childish, not malicious. Now, do as you were told or I shall double the number I have in mind."

Vax would never admit it, not under any amount of coercion outside of a fucking zone of truth spell, but Percy's voice when he got like this was pure, distilled sex. It was akin to the sharp rush of attraction Vax felt when Percy let some of his cold rage, some of his sharply-tempered violence, loose in combat, akin, but softer, more personal. The fear that melted into lust carried with it a slightly quieter shame and a slightly deeper longing. 

Slowly, Vax'ildan obeyed instructions, unbuckling the Belt of Returning and carefully setting it and its daggers upon the desk, before unclasping and folding the belt that looped through his leather leggings, setting that likewise aside. His trousers were tight enough that he had a moment of wishful thinking that even if he loosened the ties Percy would give up when wrestling them down to his knees proved a chore. 

*Yeah, right,* were his final thoughts before he gingerly, blushing bright pink, lowered himself over Percy's lap. 

Percy immediately caught hold of Vax's thigh and levered him up further, so that he had to awkwardly catch himself on the floor in front of him to balance (or thought he did before Percy's other hand landed firmly on his back, a comforting, almost soothing pressure). The comfort lasted all of seven seconds, before the first hard blows began to fall upon Vax's upturned bottom. Percival was not *strong* by the standard of any group that held Grog as a member, but he was well above average, his musculature honed by all the off hours he spent folding metal at the forge. Vax found himself glad that he wasn't being called to task by anyone more preternaturally massive, because Percy's hands currently felt as if they were made of iron as they alternated five heavy slaps to one asscheek, then five to the other with a rhythm and precision that was almost that of an automaton.

Vax found himself squirming far before he meant to - before it even *hurt*, while the discomfort was still mostly embarrassment and a growing warmth and sting, because he could tell now that it *would* hurt, and his feelings about that were almost as mixed as his current opinion of Percy himself. He huffed, "I thought you said something about talking?"

"When you're in a position to listen," Percy replied, completely ignoring Vax's wiggles as he continued to thoroughly warm Vax's ass. His voice betrayed not a hint of growing weariness at the brutal pace he had set, which hardly seemed fair. "Let's get these down."

"Okay, that's... I mean, that isn't really necessary, is it--uh, Perce?" Vax's voice almost squeaked when Percy maneuvered his trousers down, scraping them across hips and already-sensitized rear end. 

Percy chuckled, a dark, low sound that Vax cursed with every fiber of his tense and vibrating being, because he *wasn't* enjoying the spanking, per se, but he was definitely enjoying the feeling - the helplessness, the loss of control, the position of vulnerability (especially now, as he was exposed to the warmth of the workshop air). And he was *especially* enjoying the sound of Percy's low amusement. And all that enjoyment was going to be extremely obvious, due to his positioning, just as soon as the leather armor stopped doing its damn job, in three... two... one.

To Percy's credit, he made no sign he was aware of Vax's situation at all. He simply took a moment, caressing Vax's bare flesh with a surprisingly cool, calloused, long-fingered hand. When he spoke, what he said was, "I have noticed a pattern, Vax'ildan." 

He almost never used Vax's full name, and that he did, *now*, in that low, decisive, take-to-task tone, his accent flavoring the Elvish with a Spartan lilt, was entirely unfair. Vax tried to pay attention, but found himself squirming again. This time, his movements were halted by a sharp stinging slap to his upper thigh. 

"Pay attention. We are preparing ourselves to head straight into a trap in a few days, following the invitation of the two worst people I have had the displeasure to meet in my lifetime. Your *reckless* insistence on ignoring your safety and well-being, on charging in without backup and without a better plan than 'hide in the shadows' or 'dagger dagger dagger' *will not* be acceptable in Whitestone. In fact, it will *not* be acceptable, to me, again. If you *ever* wait that long to call Jenga again, no matter where we are or who is with us, we will have this kind of conversation then and there, is that clear?" 

Around the word "reckless," Percy had begun spanking again, but instead of the infuriating but at least predictable pattern of before, he now followed no set rhythm at all. He would speed up, slow down, alternate strikes to the sit spots and the upper thighs, sometimes focus on one area so long he had Vax whimpering and grinding his teeth to keep from crying out in pain, sometimes lightening up his blows, sometimes bringing his hand down so hard Vax thought it was stone. And it *hurt*, it hurt enough that tears pricked Vax's eyes and he started to kick his legs. Percy was undeterred, simply adjusting his seat so that he could tuck Vax's legs between his thighs and increasing his tempo and the strength of his swats. 

"It's clear, it's clear!" Vax assured him, followed by a few variations on the same pleading theme, involving promising he wasn't going to risk himself unduly again (he knew that was a lie even as he swore it, but it didn't stop him from saying it over and over again), apologizing profusely, and occasionally just crying out 'my lord' in want of an actual sentence. 

Eventually, seemingly not connected at all to anything that Vax had said or done, Percy stopped. Quietly, he said, "There, that's all over and done now. You did very well. Such a good boy."

Vax snorted, but couldn't make himself disagree with actual words, despite the fact that he had turned into a sniffling mess over something as innocuous as a spanking. Whatever he might have intended to say, to deny, was drowned in a whimper when Percy rubbed light circles over the small of his back. 

"Are you ready to sit up? I doubt you'll want to try to get those trousers back on just yet, but I don't see much of an alternative, given how far from your quarters you've wandered." 

Vax's low moan as those cool fingers rubbed soothingly at his sore and scorching ass melded into a bit of a squawk at the thought of changing position right then - with his pants still down, no less. He hadn't thought it would be possible to blush even more brightly, but he was proving himself wrong on every possible level, it seemed. "Um, no - no, Perce, I am fine here," he squeaked, willing his erection to calm itself. Despite flagging during the worst of the spanking, his dick had sprung to life at the subsequent gentle touch and the words 'good boy,' had him so hard it was almost painful. 

It wasn't as if Percy couldn't tell - he *had* to have been able to tell at least a little, Vax was just hoping he didn't know the extent of the effect he was having. 

"When you're ready," de Rolo soothed, returning to rubbing Vax's back. After determining that this was awkward as hell, perhaps just as awkward as the alternative, Vax struggled to his feet, only to be carefully sat on Percy's knee, perched so that he wasn't putting pressure on the sorest bits of bum. Percy gamely ignored Vax's stubborn show of eagerness, choosing instead to repeat the words he'd said before as he carded his fingers through Vax's hair, "You did so well, took that so well."

He didn't say 'good boy,' again, which Vax was both sad and relieved about, and he didn't say another word about his lecture, or what had led up to it. Eventually, Vax said thank you and stood up again, wincing as he pulled up his leggings. Damn but the armor had been a poor choice, for more than one reason. 

"Never again," he swore, and he could have sworn he saw Percy smirk just a little before he nodded solemnly. "Are we good, then, Percival?"

"We're good, Vax." 

Vax stumbled gingerly toward the door, the discomfort of attempting to walk when he was still so incredibly turned on briefly outweighing the pain of the spanking. His hand was on the knob when Percy added, "Keyleth has some herbs that help with abrasions - you might try putting some aloe on."

"Thanks," Vax said, pretending that he wasn't planning on faking a terrible hangover the next morning so that Keyleth would heal him. He paused. "Thanks for, um, everything, Perce."


End file.
